


Lost in the cold

by Mastre



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Beauty and the Beast Elements, F/M, Hunting, Jötunn Loki, Loki Feels, Loki Has Issues, Loki Needs a Hug, POV Third Person, Swearing, Tumblr: imagine-loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-10 23:27:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 15,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7012468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mastre/pseuds/Mastre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a plane crash in the wilderness you find yourself lost in a foreign world and the only shelter is with a mysterious man consumed by bitterness, in a palace with no mirrors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wandering

**Author's Note:**

> I made [this post](http://mastreworld.tumblr.com/post/144921648442/imagine-it-being-loki-who-sings-this-song) on tumblr and then I got inspired and started writing.

It was a strange and scary world to find yourself in. Immensely cold and barren, enveloped in perpetual darkness. There was a sun, but the cloud cover was so heavy it's rays barely filtered through. She had no idea how she'd ended up here.

There had been an accident. The small plane where she was a passenger had went down in a mountain area. The pilot had managed to get it down in one piece, barely, and they all survived with lesser injuries. It was a remote area; rescue might take weeks if they were found at all. So they decided to start walking, finding a way down and back to civilization.

Now she was alone. Where before there had been clear sky and bright sunshine, there was now menacing skies and darkness. Where there had been patches of grass and smaller vegetation there was now absolutely nothing. Nothing but ice. How did this happen?

They had spent two days walking, finding their way down slopes and around protruding rocks. Sometimes they had reached a dead end and been forced to turn back for another try. With nothing to eat and barely enough to drink the trek had seemed endless.

She wondered if the others would search for her. Would they wait till she was found, or would they decide that it was every man for himself and try to save the many instead of one who happened to get lost? She didn't know any of them well enough to predict what they might do. They were strangers, never seen before boarding that plane.  
Would they even notice that she was gone?

They had all settled down to rest, but she had wanted to gather some firewood for the night, and explore the caves. Maybe one of them could be used as shelter from the elements. The one she found led deep and she wanted to be careful, but also curious. It seemed to get colder the further she went and she wondered why. Was there a glacier back here somewhere? An underground source of water? That would be perfect; they were in desperate need of it.

Then she had lost her footing. Slipped on one of the spots of ice that were becoming more frequent the further in she walked. And the sloping ground had done the rest. There had been nowhere to hold on as she slid downwards and she barely noticed the strange shift in atmosphere before she reached the end of the tunnel and landed in the snow.

This was nothing like the world she had left behind. It was like entering a different dimension all together. How had the weather shifted so fast while she was gone? It couldn't have been more than half an hour. And it was already dark.

Getting back up to the opening in the mountain wall was her first thought, but any attempt to get up there was met with failure. She had to find another way.

And that was why she was walking through this cold and desolate landscape. She'd never experienced a cold quite like this, and she wasn't dressed for it. Her chance of surviving the night was equal to none. So she had nothing to loose by walking. Even when her legs protested from the strain and it became increasingly tempting to just lie down and rest, she kept walking.

_If I'm to end like this at least I'm not going without a fight. I'm not giving up until every bit of my life is spent._

And that's when the structure came into view.

It looked nothing like she'd ever seen. The building, if that was what it was, resembled something out of a fantasy artwork. As she approached the roughly hewn walls and towers she realized that this must be old, and most probably abandoned. There would be no warmth to be found here, but if she could get inside there would at least be protection from the wind.

Maybe this was a good place to die. In a fortress made for a fairy tale. Legends and myths had always appealed, so she smiled at the thought.

_Pretend that this is a story and an adventure with a sad but glorious end._

She resisted licking her dry lips. They were already cracked, no need to make it worse. Bit by bit she approached the wall, looking for an entrance. She had to follow it around the corner before she came upon something resembling a door. And it could be opened.

Inside there was sudden silence, deafening after the howling winds outside. She had avoided thinking about it but a storm had been brewing for quite a while. It would have hit her hard any moment had she stayed out there. Against common sense she started to feel the growing sensation of hope.

Darkness prevailed as she found her way between the walls, walking deeper, seeing a glimpse of flickering light ahead. She didn't want to stop until she'd found it. And once she reached the end of the narrow hallway it opened up to a wider one with strangely shaped light sources across the wall. Hesitating for a moment on what direction to choose she finally went for the left.

After even more walking she entered a much bigger area, with an impressive stairway leading up to a gallery interspaced with pillars. On the bottom floor was some furniture and she went up to touch it, making sure she wasn't hallucinating. When outside she had been sure that this place was abandoned, but now... She frowned. There was warmth coming from somewhere.

Searching for the source she found a fireplace nearby. In front of it was a comfortable chair and a small table with a couple of books stacked. Books looking old and new at the same time. She had trouble putting words on it; the design of the books as well as other items in here were different, like they weren't from the modern world, yet they didn't seem _old_. It was like she had stepped into another century or, again, into a fantasy painting.

Something moved at the edge of her visual field and her eyes flew towards the upstairs gallery. There was nothing to be seen.  
"Is anybody there?" she asked loudly and winced as her lip cracked open once again.  
No answer. At first.

She scanned the shadows between the pillars but couldn't detect anything. Then she turned towards the table with the books and picked one up.  
"Leave it alone!" came a voice from upstairs. She gasped and dropped the book. The voice was male, hard and annoyed. She quickly turned around.

There was somebody standing up there but she couldn't make out his face. It had a bluish tint to it, probably an illusion by the shadows enveloping him. His clothes must be in dark colors, because she couldn't make out his body either. She approached the stairway.  
"Stop!"  
She obeyed, more out of reflex than anything else.  
"What do you want, mortal?"

_Mortal?_

"There is a storm outside and I got lost," she said. Hopefully this wasn't some cold-blooded bastard who would just throw her out.

He was quiet at first, then made a sound that resembled a bitter laugh.  
"And you think to find shelter here? Do you even know where you are?"  
"As I said I got lost. There was an accident with a plane and we were trying to get back to civilization. I ended up here. Maybe you could tell me where 'here' is?"  
He huffed, the same bitterness clear in the otherwise schooled, elegant voice.  
"You really don't know, do you? You know nothing about worlds beyond your own."

She waited. His attitude wasn't promising, but she had nothing to loose by staying put. Then he spoke:  
"You are in Jotunheim, and you will not find your way back no matter how long you try."


	2. Exploring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Questions and observations.

Jotunheim!  
It was a word out of mythology, nothing more. A world of giants and cold. The former she hadn't seen any of, the latter more than enough.

She didn't know what to say. This man was clearly trying to intimidate her and he didn't come off as entirely sane, so she'd better keep her distance. She desperately needed to stay in shelter though. There was no way she was going out there again. Not now when there was actually some hope of survival.

He was still standing up there, watching her, and she still couldn't see what he really looked like. It seemed like he was thinking about something, or maybe just waiting for her response.

_And what am I to answer to that? Pretend to believe him?_

He finally moved, putting a hand on the balustrade. There was something amused in his voice, that made her think of a cat playing with a mouse. Something cruel.  
"I will allow you to stay. For a while. You may well regret it." And he was gone.

Now she wasn't sure what to do, but warming up a little by the fire seemed like a sensible idea. She picked up the book she had dropped and put it back on top of the others. They were beautiful, but the letters were foreign to her so she wouldn't have been able to read them anyway. With hesitation she sat in the chair, expecting him to shout at her again, but nothing happened.

Time passed. She was slowly feeling warmer, but also incredibly tired. Closing her eyes, she tried to figure out what to do next. Her mind wouldn't cooperate. If she just rested a little first...

There was a strange, rocky feeling of movement at some point. A scent of leather and the sound of some irritated muttering, but she really couldn't wake up enough to find out what it all was about. The scent was pleasing though and she could almost feel the texture as well when she tried to get closer to inhale it properly. If she just hadn't been so damn cold!

* * *

She was in a bed when waking up, but couldn't remember getting there. Her clothes were still on, like someone had just dumped her between the sheets and left her there, and she began to wonder if that was exactly what had happened. If so he had at least been decent enough to not take advantage of the situation.

She stood and looked around the room. There wasn't much in it beside the bed. She walked up to the only window, small and hidden behind thick fabric. It was covered in frost and any attempt at opening it failed.  
It didn't look like a room inhabited often.

Where there more people than _him_ living here, she wondered, or was he alone in this... fantasy palace? If his attitude was any indication he might well prefer solitude, but it might also be that he just didn't care for strangers.

Her body was aching from all the walking, but she was mobile so she went to explore, and hopefully find something to eat.  
Carefully watching where she walked, memorizing everything so she would find her way back later, she went on till she found something resembling a kitchen. The building had seemed larger on the outside, but perhaps only a small part of it was inhabited. It couldn't be easy, or cheap, to keep a place like this heated in such a climate.

There was food ready, she just needed to warm it up. It was mainly meat and fish; all very simple so he probably didn't take much interest in culinary pursuits.

Once satisfied she went exploring further, taking her time so she wouldn't get lost, and making an inner map of the area she covered. Most rooms she encountered were empty but eventually she found her way back into the spacey area she'd arrived in the day (or night?) before. The gallery hovered over her head, the stairway to her left and further ahead was the fireplace and the table with books.

Before she could walk further, a voice shot out from somewhere in front:  
"Stay there! Or I will throw you out in the snow with my own hands."

_Well, good morning to you too._

She stopped, and saw a hand quickly moving from the bookstack to the chair, which was clearly where the voice was coming from. It's back was towards her and too high for her to make out the person sitting in it. All she caught was that hand, almost too fast to see, and a hint of dark hair.

"If you're looking for a place to clean up you will find a bathroom on top of the stairs. Do not touch anything else. I will know."  
"Thank you," she said, more politely than he deserved, but still. It was safest to try to stay on his good side. And if this was it she didn't want to see the bad one.  
"I will not have a filthy mortal stinking down my home."

_Oh right, let's see how rosy you smell after being stuck in the wilderness for two fucking days._

She left before she got too tempted to say anything out loud.

She found the bathroom, but not until she accidently opened the wrong door and came to stand in front of a bedroom considerably better furnished than her own. There was a large bed with a small table next to it, an impressive bookshelf and a desk with a chair. A small painting of a woman hung on the wall. There was something royal, yet fierce, about her posture.

Remembering his warning she quickly closed the door and moved on.

It was only when she was thorougly clean and dry she realized the lack of mirrors. Didn't most people keep a mirror in their bathroom? Or was she just biased by her home culture? She was not in the western world anymore and she wasn't even sure in which country the plane had crashed. Really needed to find out.

When thinking about it she hadn't seen a single mirror since she arrived here.

* * *

She didn't want to risk provoking him so she returned quietly to her own room and stayed there. Eventually she got bored with her own thoughts though, and went exploring again. That was when she came across a window that _could_ be opened and she was finally able to see out.

The storm had died down, but it was still overcast and only slightly less dark than before. The sun just couldn't get through those clouds, and she wondered how long before she'd get to see a blue sky again. This was depressing, especially with the harsh cold penetrating everything.

A movement caught her eye and she saw a man in a dark leather coat walk over the snow several hundred meters away. His back was turned and the wind blew long, black hair over his shoulders. He walked with catlike grace, quiet and determined. There was something beautiful in that gait, a natural elegance she could only dream about owning.

He arrived near some structures that she first couldn't identify. Then he started circling them and, almost too fast to see, he threw something at one of them. He whirled around and did the same towards another. Every movement was so fluent it looked like a dance. It took her a while to realize that the structures were targets and he was practicing throwing knives at them.

She'd never seen anything like it before, but the speed in which he moved and the accuracy with which he hit his targets told her enough: this was someone highly skilled. She watched in fascination and it was only the cold that eventually forced her to stop and close the window. He seemed completely unfazed by the chill, probably keeping warm from the constant moving.

Her stomach was making unhappy sounds so she went to raid the kitchen again, but her mind wouldn't stop returning to the scene she had witnessed. His movements had been so perfect, there must have been hours and hours of practice and determination to reach that level. What would drive a person to dedicate so much of their time to such a skill?

_What would drive a person to live all alone out here?_


	3. Bored

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Looking for help, looking for something to do... Facing the truth.

She needed to recover a little from everything she'd been through, but she also needed to know where she was and where to go from here. And the only person she could ask was her host, unpleasant as he was. Approaching him would be a delicate procedure.

When she went to search for him he was nowhere to be found. Frustrated she went through every part of the building she had discovered with no result to show for it. Perhaps he was still outside, but it had been hours; how could he possibly stand the cold for that long if he had the choice of going inside?  
She decided to take a nap before trying again.

An hour later she went on the hunt for the second time. She went up the stairs to search the rooms on the top of the gallery. The door to his bedroom was ajar and she peeked in briefly, but it was as empty as the others. As she withdrew a hand grabbed her from behind, ripped her backwards and pushed her forcefully against the wall, face first.  
"You are overstepping your boundaries, mortal," hissed a voice behind her. His touch was eerily cold, even through her clothes. He really must have been outside a long time.  
"I'm sorry," she squeezed out. "I was just looking for you."  
"And now you've found me. State your errand before I throw you down those stairs."

_Oh come on! What's wrong with this guy?_

"I need to know how to get home from here. Where the nearest city is and..."  
He interrupted her with a jerk of the hand that held her and she slammed into the wall a second time.  
"I've already told you; there is no way out of here. You're in the realm of monsters now, not on your pathetic little Earth." He moved closer, she could hear his voice right next to her ear, and the cold intensified. "Once you're here it's to stay, and nobody knows that better than I." He abruptly loosened his grip and stepped back.  
"If you insist on leaving I can point you in the direction of the frost giants. I'm sure they will welcome you." His tone was mocking and full of hatred. It didn't sound like a good option.

"Well, I can't stay here," she tried, finding it safest not to turn around in case he would throw a fit again. It was impossible to predict what would set this man off.  
"You're free to go," he said, like he didn't care one way or the other.  
"Could you at least tell me where I am? Or better, show me a map of this area; there must be some way to get to a place with transportation.  
There was a frustrated sigh behind her.  
"You can stay or you can leave, that's all there is to it."

And then he left. When she turned around all she saw was a glimpse of raven black hair disappearing down the stairs.

* * *

The rest of the day went by and she was bored out of her wits. There was absolutely nothing to do beyond cooking or going outside to make snow angels or something. It got old fast. The night wasn't much better; she had trouble sleeping and dreamt about monsters like the one in "The empire strikes back". Big, white, fuzzy things that hang you upside down before they eat you.

Being stuck with a lunatic in the middle of nowhere was not fun. Not fun at all. Sooner of later she would have to try to leave, but not before she'd explored every possibility. There might well be a map somewhere,or something else she could use to orient herself. Most likely in his room, but that was a risky area to enter, he'd made that clear in more ways than one.

She tried to eat to keep herself in good health, but it was difficult to overcome the lack of appetite. There must be something she could do about her situation.

He had left her some clothes, so she could change. They weren't exactly perfect in size, but it meant she could wash her old ones and that made her ridiculously happy. Bathing did little when you had to wear the same dirty garments all the time. He must have realized that, since he didn't like "filthy mortals" running around the place.

Why did he insist on calling her mortal in the first place? Did he think he was a god or something?

She took the bull by the horns and approached him again. This time from a safe distance. He was sitting in the chair by the fire, reading, and she stopped well out of his reach before saying anything.  
"To be honest I'm incredibly bored," she said. "And I would really like something to do to stimulate myself. Books in a language I can read, or drawing paper or... something that I can occupy my mind with."

She could see part of the book he was holding and the way it went still it was clear that he was paying attention, so she waited for a reply. It took a while.  
"Drawing paper I can give you. If you want to read I'm afraid you have to learn Asgardian writing first." He closed the book. "Though I doubt any of my books would be of much use to you. They handle matters beyond your comprehension."

_Oh nice, here comes the derogatory attitude again._

"Let me guess, you're not up to teaching me?"  
"I have better things to do with my time."

_I'm glad to hear it, but unfortunately I don't._

She couldn't think about anything else to say so she left him and went back to her room.

Later she took a long walk around the area, as far as she dared go without getting lost, but there was nothing to be seen besides snow and ice and dark skies. No habitation in any direction. She didn't dare take the chance of wandering away randomly. In frustration she cursed her predicament. The plane crash, the weather, the madman who refused to help her. It was so incredibly infuriating to be _stuck_.

When she returned there were a dozen sheets of paper and a pen lying on her bed. Both the paper and the pen looked different than anything she'd seen before but they served their purpose. She sat down to bring out her creative side, but instead of drawing she ended up writing down her thoughts. It felt like therapy to pour it all out and she wrote small to make use of the paper in the most efficient way possible.

Hungry again she went to the kitchen and expected to find it empty as always. It wasn't.

The moment she stepped in she came to a halt. He was standing with his back to her, completely still. He was dressed in the same dark leather coat she'd seen him wearing outside and his hair hung loose and untidy about his shoulders, like he'd just been outside in the wind. She could feel the cold from where she was standing.

The room was silent for a few moments, then she cleared her throat and proceeded to speak.  
"I'm sorry, I was just getting something to eat, didn't mean to interrupt."  
He didn't answer, or move. It only then registrered how tall he was. She hadn't really had a good look at him before, certainly not this close.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" he asked unexpectedly.  
"What?"  
"When you were outside," he clarified.  
"Oh... no, I didn't go very far."  
"When will you realize that there isn't anything to find?"  
"If you would be so kind to tell me..." she started, but got interrupted.  
"The only way back to your world goes the way you came, and if that was possible you would already be there!" he snapped. "There is nothing I can do."

Okay, he was clear enough: there was no help to expect. She wouldn't bother asking again.  
"Well, I guess there isn't much to do then," she said. "But I can't imagine you want me to stay here permanently, so I have to find somewhere to move on to."

He still hadn't moved, but there was a slight tremble to his right arm, like he was clenching his fist or something.  
"Do you want to know what is out there?" Something in his tone made her hesitate, something dangerous that made her think about when he'd slammed her against the wall upstairs. Carefully she took a step backwards, out of arm's reach.

Then, in one rough movement, he turned around and looked her straight in the eye. And she froze in shock.


	4. Truths revealed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Questions and answers

His eyes were blood red. Completely red; irises, whites, everything. And his skin was blue. She had never seen anything like it. There was a strange beauty to his face, to his whole appearance with that long, black hair, dark eyebrows and tall, slender figure, but it wasn't human. When she looked down she saw that his hands were blue as well.

"Who are you?" she asked without thinking. Up till now he hadn't told her his name, and she hadn't felt inclined to ask.  
"I'm Loki of Jotunheim, formerly of Asgard." When she didn't react he continued with a cruel voice. "You might know me better as the one who tried to conquer your world a few years back, _mortal_." There was a hint of a twisted smile as he watched her think.

Loki. Asgard... New York... It couldn't be!

"But... you don't look... there was never any talk about you looking... like this." They couldn't have kept something like that out of the news. He had been _seen_.  
"Oh, but I didn't look like this back then," he said. "And I certainly wasn't condemned to live here." He moved closer and lifted his hand, holding it inches from her cheek, wiggling his fingers slowly. "Do you fear me now? Do you wish you hadn't come?"

His hand radiated cold. Intense, merciless cold.

"If I touch you now your skin will _burn_ , do you wish to know what it feels like? To be touched by a monster?" His voice was so full of venom, of hatred and bitterness, he could barely control it. She stood completely still, thinking it unwise to do sudden movements.

Then he lowered his hand.  
"You wish for something to do? You can make yourself useful. Tomorrow morning I'm going out hunting and you are coming with me. Either that or you can leave tonight."

He brushed past her and left, leaving her to contemplate her choice and process the experience.

She did so while preparing her food.

* * *

Hunting was not her favourite activity. She didn't like killing animals, but when you need to eat you do what has to be done. It soothed her conscience that the killing was quick and they were planning to make use of as much of the prey as possible, not just the meat. There was a lot to carry on the way home but she was careful not to complain. Loki took on most of it; he was a lot stronger than he looked.

_Because he isn't human._

There were few words wasted between them, only his instructions, more or less impatient, and her occasional question. She liked to think she did decently for a first time. Luckily she wasn't squeemish about blood and other... unsightly things.

Back home the work didn't stop. They needed to store the meat as well as prepare the furs and other non-edible parts before they could attract predators or begin to smell once brought inside. It took the rest of the day.

She was dead tired and aching when she finally went to bed, but she felt a little proud of herself, and she hadn't been bored even once.

She dreamt about him, about blue skin and red eyes and the strange markings that decorated his face. About him sitting in the chair by the fire, reading. About him throwing knives with the agility of a dancer. It was a lot to process; it was only natural to dream about it. She had asked who he was, but she had forgotten to ask _what_ he was.

The morning came and she broke her fast alone as usual, then did some more writing. Outside it was snowing, and she decided to walk outside for just a little bit, inhaling the fresh air. If it just hadn't been so dark. She missed the sun.

When back inside he had another task for her to help with and they spent a good part of the day working, again with very little talk. She would have wanted to ask him things, but thought it better to wait. Maybe he would become a little less hostile over time, and she'd be less likely to trigger an outburst.

The days passed, with very little change in weather or attitude. She fell into a rythm; eating, sleeping, writing, doing whatever Loki wanted her assistance with at the moment. They ended up spending quite a few hours together. She got used to the way he looked as well as his grumpyness. Was tempted to joke about the latter, but didn't think it would go over well. If he had humour he kept it well hidden.

One evening she came downstairs from the bathroom to find him sitting by the fire. He brought out a sheet of paper with symbols on.  
"These are the letters you need to learn," he explained and proceeded to explain them. She spent the following hours memorizing. He was far from patient, but she was getting used to his tone, and didn't let herself be intimidated.

"As a mortal you can't be expected to learn as fast," he said, perhaps trying to be comforting but it sounded more like an insult. "You can take as long time as you want, however. This is for your benefit, not mine."

Well, that was a backhanded way to say that you're doing something nice for someone.

* * *

"May I ask you something?" she said one day. He looked at her warily, but didn't say no. "What is Jotunheim, exactly? I thought that was a place in mythology."  
"So is Asgard, if I'm properly informed about your myths. Both realms are real, just like Midgard, which is the proper name for yours."

_Proper, right. So we're not trusted to choose a name for our own world._

"So... are they all real? Like Alfheim, Vanaheim... the whole nine worlds in Yggdrasil thing?"  
"They are. Jotunheim is the home of the frost giants. Asgard is the realm eternal where..." his face hardened while talking. "... the Allfather resides and the bifrost is located. I'm sure you are familiar with those concepts."  
"Yes," she admitted, not wanting to stop now she'd got him talking. "So Odin actually exists too? Like Thor and all those gods our ancestors believed in?"

His mood seemed to be going south quickly but he did answer.  
"They are real, yes. So am I, obviously."  
"Loki. The trickster. The chaos factor. Is all that true as well? That every time something went wrong they blamed you?" That seemed to take him aback a bit. He collected himself before answering.  
"There is some truth to that, yes. Not every detail in your myths are accurate however; much seem to be misinterpretations or simply... imaginations."

"So what is a frost giant? Since we're in this realm, and I haven't seen any. "  
"You're looking at one," he said.  
"What?"  
He seemed almost amused at her reaction.  
"I am one," he repeated. "This is what we look like."

She felt confused. There were pieces missing here.

"I thought giants were... big," she said, feeling like she couldn't express herself right. He was certainly tall, but not extremely so.  
"They usually are. I... was born small. Which is why my birth parents didn't want me."

_Whoops! I may just have stepped in it._

"I'm sorry," she said, trying to sound sympathetic. What the hell _do_ you say about something like that. No wonder this guy had issues.

"I was adopted and grew up in Asgard. I was adult before I learned about my... heritage."

That didn't sound too good. Not the way he said it. She was starting to feel like she was poking a wasp nest.

"So... how did you end up here?"  
There was appearantly the limit, because he closed up.  
"I believe that's a topic better suited for another time," he said, standing up. "I have tasks that needs attending to." And he left her, walking off with his usual quiet, catlike gait.

So, she had gotten some answers, why did it feel like there were more questions than ever?


	5. Frost giants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the neighbors are best avoided.

"Are we completely self-sufficient here?" she asked while they were preparing some furs together. "No way to get things but to make them yourself?"  
"You could try trading with the frost giants, but I wouldn't recommend it."  
"You don't trust them?" she asked, curious.  
"It's more accurate to say that they wouldn't trust me."

Okay, she had to ask.  
"Any particular reason why?"  
"I did attempt to destroy their world once, which I am sure they know by now. I also killed their king, who happened to be my birth father."

Oy! This was getting worse and worse. Every time she asked him questions it opened up something shocking and twisted. Or maybe this kind of drama was normal in the other realms, what did she know?

Continuing her work she kept her mouth shut for a while, till she was sure he was not going into another mood swing, but he seemed unfazed by the heavy subject.

_You go ballistic when I'm about to enter your room, but act like patricide and destroying worlds are nothing special. What the fuck?_

She tried to sneak a look at him but couldn't figure out what he was thinking. His slender blue hands moved with certainty, like he had done this hundreds of times before. Maybe he was just concentrating, the conversation already gone from his mind.

* * *

They went fishing, and she actually thought it would be less messy than hunting. No such luck. Fish guts smeared all over hands she tried to give them a quick rinse in the cold river water when Loki suddenly stiffened and shushed her. Something was moving on the other side. He urged her to stay down with a stern hand on her back while following the movement with attentive eyes.

"We need to go," he said with a low voice and started gathering their things without straightening up. He kept glancing across the water, constantly vigilant. She followed his example and they began removing themselves from the area, carefully keeping their heads down as much possible. She caught a glimpse of something of considerable height but couldn't tell what it was.  
"Frost giants," he whispered in her ear, so close the cold bit into her skin.  
Oh yes, they were definitely bigger than he was.

They moved at an angle; only after half an hour's walk did they change direction to a more direct one, moving over surfaces that wouldn't leave any tracks behind. He seemed to know the way despite the lack of landmarks. Everything in this dark,icy realm looked the same to her eyes.

They managed to return home without being seen, but after everything was cleaned and stored away she caught him walking around the building while doing some elaborate movements with regular intervals. A greenish light seemed to emit from his hands.

She remained standing, thinking it best not to interrupt, but she was burning with curiousity.

_What is he doing?_

As he approached her, appearently done, he seemed to read her thoughts.  
"I'm strengthening the wards," he said. If they see this dwelling they will pass by, thinking it uninhabited and unworthy of their time."  
"How can you do that? How does it work?"  
"With magic," he said simply and ushered her inside. His tone didn't invite more questions.

* * *

It didn't go unnoticed by her that Loki seemed the most sane when he was focused on something, be it physical work or something intellectual, like reading or teaching her the letters. All that energy went into what he was doing at the moment. It was when he was between tasks that he got moody and volatile.

He asked her to go get something from one of the storage areas, but she took a wrong turn and walked into a room with nothing but a few broken pieces of furniture in. Including two mirrors, thoroughly smashed to pieces. She saw something dark and crouched down to look closer. If she wasn't mistaken there was dried blood on the slivers of glass.

Without warning a hand grabbed her and jerked her up on her feet and out of the room. He threw her against the opposite wall and cursed at her. As she tried to catch her breath and back away he slammed the door shut and walked towards her, red eyes wild with rage.  
"How dare you?" he hissed. "When I tell you to do something you do it, you're not going off to pry where you have no right to be."  
"I went the wrong way; I made a mistake! What's wrong with you?" she shouted back. Probably not the wisest thing to do, but she didn't appreciate being thrown around and the pain inflicted made her even angrier.

He went straight up to her and pinned her against the wall with both hands, cold seeping through her clothes and stinging her upper arms. She lifted her hands instinctively and tried to push him away but didn't have enough leverage. Not to mention that he was way stronger than she was.

His face was right next to hers, teeth showing, eyes flashing. He looked like he was about to rip her to pieces... and then he just let go and backed off. And without a word he left.

It took her a while to gather herself from the shock, though more than anything she wanted to make sure he was gone so she didn't have to run into him on the way back to the inhabited area. Several minutes passed before she judged it safe to move.

Later he came by her room, staying only long enough to offer her a salve for the irritation on her arms that his touch had inflicted. He left without acknowledging her surprised thanks.

It worked too. Not just partially like earthly pain remedies, but it actually took away the sting completely. She watched the redness fading before her eyes while wondering how much worse it would have been if her clothes hadn't been in the way. His touch was vicious.

Later yet, when she passed by Loki's room, she caught a glimpse of him sitting on the floor, back to the bed, and looking ahead of himself with arms crossed and a thoughtful, almost pained expression on his face. She quickly moved on before he caught her looking, but something about the scene stuck in her mind. Something she couldn't quite identify.

Whatever it was it kept haunting her.


	6. Danger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When things go wrong it's a long walk home.

More time passed. She learned to read and he lent her books about the nine realms and Asgardian history. They were even more interesting than the earthly myths, though not quite as extreme. (She would have to inquire about those at some point, though she wasn't sure how appropriate it would be to do so.)

They fished and hunted, prepared their kills and all the things that could be made from them. And increasingly often they had a conversation that lasted longer than three sentences. He still referred to her as "mortal" when in a pissy mood, but seemed more and more inclined to use her actual name. There were even times when he seemed to forget what she was.

It was harder to forget what he was. Not because it bothered her, but because it was so obvious. She'd never been around blue, alien-looking people before, and he was very self-conscious. If he caught her staring it was right back to hissy fits and "filthy mortal" again. Or he tried to creep her out, acting all scary and menacing.

Then the incident happened. And it was a big, bloody, horrible incident.

They were tracking their prey, which brought them close to where they had encountered the frost giants weeks before. It was only natural to end up near water; the lack of vegetation meant that the land animals they hunted lived primarily of fish.

They caught up with what they were after; several hare-sized mammals with four legs, thick furs and fatty meat. She was tying them together for easier carrying when Loki lifted his head and listened intently. He glanced around.  
"Remain here!" In moments he was on his feet and gone behind the nearest hill. She hurried up with what she was doing, but had an uneasy feeling... and turned out to be right. 

Shouts and noises suddenly came from behind the snow covered mound. She tied the dead animals to a leather harness around her shoulders that she'd invented to have her hands free, then she stalked closer.

It was just about over when she peaked over the edge. One frost giant was lying on the ground, either unconscious or dead. The other one was on his knees. A knife plunged into it's throat right when she looked, but not before a massive spear of ice had left it's hand... and hit Loki where it shouldn't.

_Oh no!_

She ran. 

He was bent over, breathing heavily, and just as she reached him he managed to pull the spear out. It was covered in blood.

_Oh no, please no!_

Without thinking she pressed her hands to the wound, then recoiled from the pain.  
"Don't!" he panted. "Just give me... something to tie it up with. We need to go."

They had cloth with them for this very purpose. Some of the animals they hunted were far from docile and accidents could happen. She'd just never expected anything like this.

They used what they had to wrap the wound up as tightly as possible. It was in his side; he didn't think any organs was hit, but the bleeding was a problem.  
"We need to leave now! There will be more of them."

She tried to support him and he leaned on her, an arm around her shoulders, as they started walking.  
"Don't touch my skin," he warned. "I can supress the cold I emit, but I need my powers elsewhere right now." He groaned, and it made her wince. This was not good.

Moving with that kind of injury was a bad idea, but they didn't have a choice. 

And he was heavy. Not just grown man heavy, but _seriously_ heavy. Must be the alien/immortal thing. This was going to be a long walk.

They were barely half way when things got worse .  
"You're dripping. Stop! Stop!"  
"My healing abilities are far beyond what you mortals have. I will recover once I rest."   
"Not if you don't have any blood left to heal _with_ ," she insisted. "And you're leaving a trail that anyone with eyes can follow."

Appearently those were the magic words to get him to listen. She ripped a piece of her own clothing to patch things up with. Then, on Loki's insistance, she covered up the blood trail behind them with snow. She didn't like the delay but it gave him a few minutes' rest and he wouldn't move until she'd done as he demanded. Stubborn... idiotic... She kicked at the snow in frustration. He was right, of course, but still...

They continued, slowly but surely. Eventually arriving home they staggered inside and arrived by the stairs. 

The stairs...  
"Loki..."  
"I will only lie down in my own bed."  
"And how am I supposed to get you up there?"

One step at the time, as it turned out, and he was not the only one shaking like a leaf when it was done. He sat on the bed, covered in sweat, and with a shimmer most of his clothing vanished in front of her eyes. His upper body was naked, except for the thoroughly soaked bandage around his middle. The skin on his chest had similar markings to the ones on his face.  
"We need more of these," he said, as he started untying the cloth with trembling fingers.

She was already on it, gathering what they needed to patch him up properly. She was more scared than she'd been in a long time, maybe even more than when the plane went down. That had been the responsibility of the pilot; the outcome of this situation was at least in part depending on her. If they just hadn't have to walk so far...

His lips were grey and even his blue skin color seemed paler than normal. She didn't like this one bit. Just how much blood had he lost? How much could he _afford_ to loose?

He finished the bandaging and gingerly moved to lying position.  
"I will likely be incapacitated for a couple of days, no more."  
"Are you sure?" she asked, doubtful.  
"I am. My body regenerates itself faster than yours; it is also more resilient."

He spoke with effort, but she had little reason to doubt him. It didn't make much sense lying about something like this, and he was, as definitely proven, a different species. She would have to take his word for it.

She put some water within his reach and went to deal with the animals they had caught. She would recieve a serious scolding if she let them go to waste, not that she would care much at this point. At least the work would keep her mind occupied and she'd be less likely to worry.

Eating was a challenge; she could barely get anything down. Exhausted as she was it should have been easy to sleep but she couldn't bear the thought. There was too much, too much going on in her mind; a constant mess of racing thoughts and difficult emotions.

She went back to Loki's room, thinking about all the things that could go wrong: bleedings that wouldn't stop, infections, internal damage... There were no hospitals in this world; they were completely on their own were the worst to happen. 

He was asleep. Deeply, it seemed. She carefully lifted the covers to check the bandages, but there was hardly any bleed-through this time. She ended up scanning the books in the shelf, then dragged the desk chair next to the bed and tried to read to occupy herself. Slowly her mind started coming to rest as she was listening to his slow and even breathing.   
Maybe things would be alright.

Maybe.


	7. Bound till the end of days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Facing your limitations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, to any men reading this: I hope you don't get too offended by certain passages. Present company excluded, and all that.

She woke slowly, not opening her eyes right away. The room was quiet, and she sat folded over in the chair with her arms forming a pillow under her head, resting on the edge of the bed. As the events of the previous day came back to her she froze. For an excruciatingly long moment she couldn't hear a thing... and then Loki took a breath. She exhaled her own, never having felt so relieved in her life.

He was lying on his back with his head slumped to the side and a long, sinewy arm resting on top of the covers. His chest was raising and falling evenly and though his skin had a paler tone than usual there was no sign of things having worsened during the night.

She straightened up and rolled her neck, then quietly stood and lifted a bit of the cover to check the bandage. It would need changing but probably could wait another hour. She didn't want to wake him just yet. The longer he slept the better, she told herself. That his sleeping face was strangely beautiful had little to do with it.

It turned out the wound had already started closing, so he had spoken the truth about his healing abilities. There was still a risk of it opening up from strain though, and that created a bit of a confrontation when he insisted on walking without assistance.

"I don't need your pity!"  
"Do you want to break your neck on the stairs? You can barely walk to the bathroom, why would you even think about going downstairs?"  
He winced and leaned on the doorframe.  
"I need to eat, don't I?"

She refrained from pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation.  
"I can _get_ you something to eat! What is the matter with you men; you have to make everything so difficult?"  
"Don't compare me to the pathetic males in your realm!" he spat.  
"Oh B.S., you're all the same wherever you come from! Just because you have a penis you think you rule the w..."

Akward silence.

_Now I may well have overstepped my boundaries._

"I'll go and get you some food; just stay there." She quickly turned around and set off down the stairs.

It was with great hesitation she returned, not just because of the unfortunate word exchange, but also because he might well have been foolish enough to try to conquer the stairs on his own. She would rather not see the broken neck prediction come true.

Instead he was back in bed, sitting up with closed eyes that flicked open once she entered the room.  
"About time," he huffed. She rolled her eyes.  
"Eat, and don't be a pain in the ass." He gave her a glare but didn't say anything.

He didn't order her out of the room, so she stayed put, letting her eyes wander over the surroundings. They came to rest on the painting. The woman portrayed looked neither young nor old; her face serious with strong features and penetrating eyes. Hair in an updo, but with soft ringlets down the sides.

She glanced back and saw that he was watching.  
"Who is she?" she asked, indicating the painting. He looked down on his hands.  
"That is Frigga, queen of Asgard... and my mother."  
Before she could comment or ask anything he put down the spoon and pushed the tray away.  
"I am done," he declared brusquely. "Take this away!"

Well, a little was better than nothing, she figured. As long as he drank enough water he should be alright.

She went to check on him a few hours later and found him asleep. That was a relief and she should have left again, but for some reason she wanted to stay for a while. Being near him was soothing, now the worst was over. There was something comforting in listening to his breathing and seeing his relaxed face surrounded by wayward black curls.

_This time I didn't loose you._

How strangely fragile life was out here, in this world so far removed from her own. None of the comforts she was used to, none of the security. A world of ice, where nature would always be the master, would always have the last word on life and death.

She stood and walked to the only window. It being covered in frost she could barely make out what was beyond. Not that there was much to see. The layer of clouds was as inpenetrable as always and below was only frozen wasteland. Nothing seemed to move beside the occasional mist of fine snow whipped up by the wind.

_Why do you choose to live in isolation in a place like this?_

Or was it even a choice? He had hinted at times that it wasn't. Just like she couldn't leave, maybe he couldn't either. But he had spent time in the other realms, so he must have gotten here from there, and surely not the same way she did. There must be another passage. Why didn't he use it?

* * *

She went back once again by early evening and they had dinner together, mostly in silence. She wanted to ask more questions, but hesitated, feared it to be intrusive and inadvertantly start another argument.

" How long have you been here?" she finally said in a casual tone.  
"About two of your Midgardian years." He didn't look at her as he spoke.  
"All alone? The entire time?"  
"My life span is much longer than yours. Two years is a brief moment in time, barely worth one's attention."

As dismissive as the words were, his voice contradicted them.  
"You're not happy with it," she concluded. His mouth twitched.  
"It matters little if I am."  
"So why _are_ you here?" He looked up, met her eyes briefly only to look away again.  
"It is part of my sentence."  
"For what? What did you do?"  
"It's a... somewhat lengthy story. What matters is that I am bound to remain here, in this form, till the end of my days."

There was just a hint of bitterness in his voice, and more of quiet resignation; something she hadn't seen in him before this day. Like every option was already explored, every possibility tried, every attempt failed.

Spontaneously she reached out and ran the back of her fingers along his clothed arm. He stiffened at the touch, jaw tightening, but didn't acknowledge the tenderness she displayed. Didn't reject it either.  
"So you're as stuck here as I am," she said quietly.  
He didn't answer that and they sat in silence, finishing their meal.

* * *

He recovered smoothly, way faster than a regular human would. Three days and he was up and moving about in the house, though avoiding any activity that put a strain on his body. There was still weakness from bloodloss and some pain from the healing injury, so she suggested going out on her own if they needed to fill their storage.

He immediately shut down that idea; so fast she had barely finished talking.  
"Under no circumstances are you going out there alone.  
"We still have meat, but if we run out..."  
"If I even suspect you're about to do this I _will_ lock you up till I recover."

_Jeez! Where is this coming from all of a sudden? ___

__"Exactly what are you afraid of?" she tried. "That I get lost? Because if I go to the same..."  
"You are not doing this, end of story!" He was insistant on the border of aggressive, eyes flashing, nostrils flaring. Though she wasn't half as nervous about incuring his wrath now as in the beginning she let the subject fall for the time being. There didn't seem to be much point in continuing the discussion. She just hoped they wouldn't run out of food before it became an issue._ _


	8. Cast out of the light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some quiet contemplation about past and future.

"How did you get here? After your sentence." She was sitting cross-legged on the furs near the fire.  
"They used the bifrost to bring me here. That's how you travel between realms."  
"And there's no other way?"  
"Only the secret passageways, like the one you found." He leaned back in the chair with a quiet sigh.  
"And we can't use any of them to get us out of here?"  
"The one to Midgard you cannot reach, as you already know. There is one to Asgard... If you insist I can take you there, but it comes out in a remote area. You would likely get lost before you found anyone to help you further."  
"What if you came with me?" She hadn't missed his consistent use of the word "you".  
"I can't leave this realm."  
"Ever thought of escaping?" Not a wise thing to suggest, perhaps, but it's not like it would never have crossed his mind.  
His mouth twitched a little as he stared into the fire, rubbing his thumb against the fingers on his other hand.  
"It would kill me. My sentence is magically enforced. Once I take a step out of this realm... I'll burn up from the inside."

Ugh! They had creative ways of enforcing things in Asgard.

She moved closer, settling against the side of the chair, next to his legs, and looking into the flames. Look long enough and you'd see familiar patterns forming, of things out of memory, things she would likely never see again. Home.  
"I take it you don't have visitors?" she asked. He shifted in the chair.  
"Thor came once. I wouldn't see him."  
"Why not?" She heard a soft huff above her head.  
"Why would I? It's not as if it'd make a difference."

"So what about your mother?" she asked after a brief pause.  
His voice took on a hard tone that she was all to familiar with.  
"My mother doesn't live anymore. She was killed before I even came to this forsaken place."  
"I'm sorry."

They were quiet for a long while. She almost dozed off. Something touched her hair and she felt a slight cold against her scalp. His hand on the armrest probably. Though it felt more like... he was actually playing with a strand of hair or something. Not that she minded but it was a bit weird, out of character for this man.

A thought struck her.  
"You said your life span is longer than mine. Just how long are you to stay here if it's for the rest of your... days." Her voice trailed of as the gravity of the words sank in.  
"Frost giants have roughly the same life span as Asgardians, biologically speaking, so... I'll have about four thousand years left."  
"Oh my god!" As if he wasn't alien enough to her already.  
"Not that I'm likely to live that long under these circumstances," he added. "Jotunheim is hardly a place where you die from advanced age."

No, she had seen enough to agree with that, but still! Unless he'd find some way to befriend the frost giants he was looking at centuries of solitude. Of complete and utter loneliness. Was the sentence intended to drive him mad?

"Wasn't your mother queen of Asgard? Couldn't your family have done something? Influence the sentencing...?"  
"The Allfather was the one to pronounce the sentence. My adoptive father Odin is the king of Asgard."  
"What?!"  
Loki's voice sounded slightly amused.  
"I impersonated him on the throne. He didn't take well to that."  
"No shit!" She knew royal families could be screwed up; she was familiar with European history, but this was... royally screwed up. "You're going to have to fill in the blanks for me one day."  
"I will be happy to, my dear." he said with an unusually cheerful voice. "It's a somewhat lengthy tale, but we have more than enough time."

* * *

It was like the rough edges had been polished off. He was still moody and quick to anger but there were also times when he actually seemed to be in a good mood. For the first time since they met she saw him smile. And she was overtaken by the weird sensation of wanting to touch that smile. Touch his face, his mouth, his lips.

Which was of course impossible, for a number of reasons.

Things started going back to normal as he recovered fully and they could resume their usual habits and work for survival.  
"You know what I miss most?" she said, carving a piece of bone into something useful.  
"No, what?"  
"Sunshine. It used to be my cheer-up drug. I would always feel better when the sun was shining, no matter what was going on with the rest of my life."  
"There is a special kind of light in the realm eternal," he told her. "It can not be compared to the light in any of the other realms. It's golden, bright... everything it touches gets a vibrating quality to it. "  
"There are certain places on Earth, on Midgard, where the light is different," she said. "My mother told me of a place called Skagen in Denmark that is like that. Artists used to come there to capture the light in their paintings."  
He nodded slowly in confirmation.  
"There is a passageway from Asgard located nearby."

She wasn't even surprised to hear it. Everything seemed connected somehow. The world was so much bigger than a few months ago. Yet, so very much smaller. She might never get out of here, never see sunshine again. And neither would he. And after her lifespan had run it's course he would be alone once more, facing millennia of isolation in a dark and desolate world.

_"I don't need your pity!"_

But it wasn't pity; it was something else.

She ran a finger along the shape she'd created so far, not very happy with it. Survival on this world was all about resistance; nothing came easy. Every aspect of life had to fight for it's existance lest it be suffocated by cold and darkness. It was a miracle anything thrived here at all.

_If I were to find a way out..._

Maybe if she could create something hard and sharp enough to hold on to that mountain wall. Ice had smoothed the rock and the opening was out of reach unless you could climb. She had no experience with rock climbing, but technically it should be possible. And then get up that icy slope inside the tunnel...

She realized that she must be presumed dead by now. Nobody would be searching anymore. If she made it all the way back through the cave tunnel she would still have to find her way down the mountain to inhabited areas... A gamble at best.

Just then she noticed that Loki was watching her again. He had been doing that increasingly often lately, though he would deny it when she asked. She couldn't decipher the look on his face and he soon turned away to focus on what he was doing.

Even if she were to find a way out... she wasn't sure she could take it. It wouldn't make much difference to him, she tried to tell herself. He was more than capable of taking care of himself; she may well be a burden more than an asset, and she'd only been here a few months; he'd adjust back to life without her soon enough.

Yet she felt guilty; it was like having something painfully ripped away when thinking about leaving him behind. All alone for the rest of his time...

That same evening she witnessed something strange. She stood at the gallery, her hands resting on the balustrade while her thoughts were wandering. A movement caught her eye and she saw Loki holding out a hand towards the fire. Too close to the dancing flames to be really comfortable, she thought. Yet he held it there for a long time, inspecting it thoroughly once withdrawn, only to tighten it into a fist and slump back in the chair. A very faint whiff of burnt skin reached her where she stood.


	9. Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When your concern reveals something you didn't expect.

Loki spent more time alone in his bedroom than usual. She wondered if the injury had taken a bigger toll on him than he wanted to admit, or if he was just fed up with her company, but nothing else seemed to support those theories. He moved around with no hint of discomfort, and when _not_ in his room, came up with all kinds of things they were to do together.

She didn't mind, his company kept her from being bored, but it sometimes seemed like he wanted her present whether she was actually needed or not. Like he didn't want her out of his sight.

"I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do..."  
"I want you to watch this so you learn it."  
"Oh, okay."  
Fortyfive minutes of watching him do something; not learning a thing.

This was getting ridiculous.

* * *

She came out of the bathroom and passed his door, only to find him in the same position as half an hour earlier; on the floor, knees bent, and leaned forward like he was in pain or something. It didn't look like he had moved at all.

_I'm probably going to regret this._

"What is wrong?" she asked, pushing the door further open so she could enter. Slowly, step by step, she approached. Better be ready to bolt if he started having a fit. Not that it happened often these days, but you could never be too sure.

He didn't look at her, just remained the same way, arms crossed over his chest. Then he lifted a hand and rubbed his forehead.  
"What do you want?"  
"I want to know what's going on with you. Something is not right, and you're not telling me."  
"Why do you care?"  
"Because you're, like, the only person around to care about?"

Okay, that came out wrong.

"I mean, we only... have each other here. If something is going on with one of us the other should know about it."  
"There is nothing 'going on' with me."  
"Yes, there is."

She took a gamble and sat down next to him. It felt strange to be so close, and on the same level, without there being any practical reason for it. But it was also weirdly pleasant.

He sighed, eyes closed.

"Do you still feel pain from that wound?" she asked gently.  
"What?" He looked momentarily confused. "No, I am perfectly fine, thank you. I've never felt better." He's tone went more sarcastic with each word uttered.  
"No, you're not. If you're not doing well if affects me too, whether you want it or not. What is so difficult that you can't even talk about it?"  
He pursed his lips and made an attempt at a bitter laugh.  
"Believe me, you would _not_ want to know what is on my mind in this moment."

She remained where she was, thinking about how to continue, and unpleasantly aware that her hair, still wet from the bath, was probably dripping water on his bed. Hopefully he wouldn't notice.

The pained expression on his face was back. She wrapped a hand around his upper arm in a bold move and he stiffened, but didn't shake it off.  
"At least tell me if there is anything I can do. I'm getting worried here."  
"Why do you care?" he asked again, voice closer to a whisper.  
"Because you're the only one I have!" She was getting frustrated by not getting anywhere. What could be so horrible that she wouldn't 'want to know'? She'd learned a whole bunch of disturbing things already. It was hard to imagine anything that could shock her more at this point.

"So if there was anybody else here you wouldn't care?"

_What is that supposed to mean?_

"I care because... I want to know what's going on! You've been acting strange for... I don't know how many days now. There's got to be a reason."  
"Here is you're reason," he said, voice hard. "Don't say I did not warn you!"  
He held out his hand and a green tinted mist manifested from it, growing into a scene, an illusion, in front of them. A very clear illusion of the two of them... kissing passionately.

_Oh my god!_

The scene had an unexpectedly titillating effect on her, and if she had been prone to blushing she would have. She couldn't bear looking at him, and only when her fingers started hurting from the cold did she realize that her hand around his arm had tightened. She quickly loosened her grip but didn't remove it altogether. It would feel like a rejection. And somehow it felt important not to give that impression. Very, very important.

"I... ehm..." She wasn't sure what to say.  
"I can make it clearer for you," he suggested.  
"No! Please don't!" She would never live it down if he started creating explicit images in front of them, it was already unsettling enough.  
"So... uh... is this what you've been thinking about? What's on your... mind?" She cursed her inability to form eloquent, coherent sentences. As soon as anything unexpected happened her words came out in a jumble. The curse of her life.

"It is. Does it make you uncomfortable? Appalled? _Repulsed_?" The anger in his voice increased with every word.  
"No," she said, managing to sound calm. "I just... I just didn't expect it. You didn't show... You've been calling me 'mortal' like it's a derogatory word since I got here. I had no reason to think you'd take an interest in me... like this."

He didn't reply so she continued, hesitantly:  
"And... is it even possible? I can't even touch you without thick layers of clothes in between. I don't see how it's done."  
He sighed and buried his face in his hands. The illusion disappeared.  
"It is possible," he said finally. "I can supress the cold temporarily to make it bearable. It may still be... uncomfortable, but not harmful."

Her hand was getting numb despite the clothes being a buffer, and she decided to switch and put her other hand on his arm instead. It created a bit of an akward position, but she didn't see a better option. Letting go of the physical contact seemed like a bad idea right now.  
"So... would you want to? Or is it just a fantasy?" She felt so vulnerable asking this, but it had to be done, or they'd never get anywhere. She could only hope she wouldn't end up being laughed at, or harshly rejected.  
"Why? So you can mock me? Play games with me?" His voice was raw with emotion. "You know I could have taken you against your will and left you maimed, or killed."

_You say such nice things._

"So why didn't you? You've had your chance to do anything you wanted since I came here. I don't have a fraction of your strength, and I wouldn't have survived if I'd try to leave. Why didn't you use that to your advantage?"

He didn't answer, only remained locked up in tension with his eyes closed, fists clenched.

She moved her hand and held it out in front of him.  
"Try touching me and see what happens. I want to know what it feels like."  
He hesitated for a moment, then took a breath and seemed to focus. He looked exhausted. If from emotion or lack of sleep she couldn't tell.

Finally he reached out and touched his fingers to her palm. She managed to resist the impulse to flinch. It felt cold, yes, but nowhere near the sting she'd felt when he'd held her arms against the wall and left burn marks right through her clothes. It wasn't painful, or even uncomfortable. The contact created a slight electrified sensation that quickened her heart beat.

She slipped her own fingertips in under his palm. Their hands closed around each other. His larger one, with long fingers, embraced hers. His thumb started rubbing against the edge of her palm, the inside of her wrist, in circles and strokes.

She was so absorbed in the hand play that it took a while to notice just how close their faces were. She held her breath.

_We only have each other._

_It's not pity. It's something else._

She leaned closer and he met her halfway, but their lips didn't touch.  
"I tried to conquer your world," he murmured. "Shouldn't you hate me?"  
"I honestly don't care. It's not like it matters anymore."

_My world is gone. I'll never see it again._

Their faces touched. Cold but not freezing. Like he'd been out in cold weather and just came home. He lifted his free hand to hold her in place, then kissed her lips.

_We are so different, in so many ways._

She kissed him back, then parted her lips to taste his tounge.

_It just doesn't matter what we are or what we've done..._

The kiss grew intenser and he wrapped his arms around her. She put her hands on his back.

_...since we don't have anything else left._


	10. Shift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When your actions have consequenses.

He grabbed her leg and pulled her up to straddle his lap as they continued kissing. Deeply, longingly, cravingly. It was arousing and soothing at once to feel his lean body so close, so tightly fitted against hers. She ran her fingers through his long, soft hair and pressed her thighs against his hips. His hand wandered down her back and found it's way in under her clothes, chilling her skin.

He just wouldn't let go of her mouth, invading it like he couldn't get enough. She let herself be ravished, turned on by the intensity. His hands kept caressing her upper body; exploring her back, her breasts, her belly in eager movements, digging fingers into her skin. She moaned from a mix of pleasure and pain and it seemed to excite him even more.

He let go and lifted her off him and onto the bed. Standing between her legs he leaned over her and began removing her clothing.  
"I'm supressing it," he said with uneven breath. "It will still be quite cold for you, I'm afraid, but it shouldn't hurt. Do you trust me?"  
"Yes."  
He displayed a brief smile.  
"Not many would offer such an answer when I ask."

Supporting himself on his arms he leaned over and kissed her some more, then magically vanished his own clothes and settled down carefully on top of her.

He buried his nose in her neck and inhaled deeply. She ran her hands slowly over his ribs and waist, savouring the sensation of smooth, cold skin under her fingers. So alien, yet so familiar at the same time. The chill was slowly seeping into her own skin where their bodies rested against each other.

He licked and nibbled her neck and moved a hand down to caress her thigh, then sliding his fingers in between her folds. This time she did flinch from the cold touch, but it wasn't overly unpleasant. He was appearantly pleased with the wetness he found because he didn't hesitate to guide himself inside and thrust into her while sighing deeply.

It was immensely arousing. She lifted her hips to get just the right angle to stimulate her most sensitive spot. Moaning softly in her ear he slipped a hand in under her in support. 

This couldn't go on for long considering the cold, but it was not like any of them would _last_ very long either. She'd never experienced anything quite so intense.

Putting her heels into the bed for leeway she moved against him, chasing that feeling, and when she finally had it she held him tightly in her arms and whimpered with her mouth buried in his neck and it felt so good she didn't ever want it to end. His breath hitched and her motions must have brought him over the edge because he stiffened in her embrace and pressed himself so hard against and into her that she thought something might break.

For a while it was like time stood still. She felt cold inside and out. Then he removed himself and, before she could react, had her wrapped up in the bedcovers till barely more than her nose peaked out. He lay down beside her, stretched out and breathing heavily, looking thoroughly spent.  
"I will use my magic to warm you, but I first need to regain my focus. It is harder to generate heat in this form."  
"It's alright," she said, not having expected this great concern. But she hadn't expected to end up quite so cold either. She was shuddering and couldn't stop.

_I guess any prolonged love making is out of the question. We'll have to settle for quickies._

Not that there was anything wrong with that.

"I should not have spilled inside you," he lamented, stroking a strand of her hair with his fingers. "You're a mortal, it makes you so much more fragile. I did not think." 

_Well, we all get carried away sometimes._

"I'll live," she said. "I just need to warm up.". He swallowed and closed his eyes, but didn't answer. She managed to get her arm out of the covers and reached for his face. She just wanted to touch him again before he went back to his natural, extreme state of cold. Something told her this vulnerable moment was fleeting, it was no likely to happen again, and she wanted to make a connection when she could.

He finally extended his hand and touched her collarbone, faint green light pulsing around his fingers, and slowly her body started warming up from her chest and onwards. When done he withdrew and claimed some of the covers for himself, leaving most of them with her. The bed was large enough they didn't have to physically touch, but they were lying as close as possible without causing her discomfort.  
"Will you sleep here from now on? Or would you rather remain in your own room?"  
"I'd rather be close to you," she said.

He looked relieved. Still tired, but more at peace than before.

* * *

She woke up some hours later, having slept really well. Maybe it was the company, maybe the more comfortable bed, or the sex for that matter; she just felt _rested_ to a larger degree than usual. It was a good feeling.

His back was turned, and all she saw was raven black hair on the pillow beside her. His skin would be back to normal temperature now, so she didn't try to touch him. She just lay there, indulging in the comfort of the moment.

This would perhaps not be the easiest of relationships. He was still volatile, though a lot less than in the beginning. They were still fighting for survival in a hostile environment where anything could happen. And their physical contact came with restrictions. It was a very strange situation to be in; one she would never have imagined back in her old world.

She just couldn't help it; she had fallen in love with him just like she'd fallen into this world. By accident, by no choice of her own. And now all there was to do was to go along with it.

He stirred and moaned a little. An arm came out to rest on the covers and her eyes settled on his shoulder. Which was... white? There was very little light in the room, so she could be mistaken, but it certainly didn't look like the blue shade she was used to seeing. She rose on her elbow for a closer look.  
"Loki?"  
"Mm-hm." She leaned over him, holding her breath. Moved some hair out of his face with her fingers. There were no sign of the markings or the blue skin tone. Only pale complexion that could just as well have been human.  
"Don't touch me!" he warned, still half asleep. She did exactly that; ran her fingers over his cheekbone and down to his jaw.  
"Loki, you need to wake up!"

He finally turned over on his back, eyes still closed. Then her insistant voice seemed to get through and he opened his eyes at her. They were green like a forest, like emeralds.  
"What?"  
"Something's happened," she said, unable to explain. "You look different."  
He frowned, then looked down at his own hand which was resting on the cover. And froze.

He looked at his other hand, his arms; ripped the covers away, displaying a perfectly built light-skinned form. Not a sign of blue anywhere.  
"This is not possible..." he muttered under his breath.

"What happened?" she asked, not sure whether to be scared or not. He sat unmoving for a while, processing. Then, finally:  
"My glamour has returned. This is the form I've been wearing for most of my life. Odin took it from me, left me in my... original form."

He was suddenly off the bed, not bothering with clothes, and searching for something under it. An ornate wooden chest came into view as he pulled it out onto the floor. Opening the lid he searched and brought out something resembling a crystal ball with a bluegreen tint to it.  
"What is that?" She leaned closer for a look.  
"It's a recording," he said slowly, eyes fixed on the orb. "Of my trial."


	11. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A test of devotion

_"Loki Laufeyson, you are hereforth sentenced to be stripped of your glamour, and be forced to remain permanently in you natural form. You will also be exiled to your birth realm of Jotunheim, under no circumstances permitted to leave. This sentence will remain in place for the rest of your living days, or till the day may come when you are willing to accept love from the ones closest to you."_

_"What?!"_

_"You have rejected your family and let down the ones who once held you in their respect and affection. This will serve to remind you that it is your own actions that brought you to the point where you now stand, and the consequenses are solely your own responsibility."_

"He knew it would never happen," Loki said bitterly as he moved a hand over the recording crystal and the image above it faded. "I would never yield to that condition, it was all a game, a display for the gallery. Making him seem fair while putting it all on me."  
"Is that why Thor came to see you?" she wondered.  
"Quite possibly." He dropped the crystal back in the chest. "He always did have a weakness for sentiment." Face hard, he closed the chest and pushed it back to it's place under the bed.

"I went over it a thousand times," he said, remaining seated on the floor. "Every tiny piece of wording, every detail... trying to find _something_ I could use to turn things in my favour. And it was there all along."  
"What was?" she asked.  
"In the words 'the ones closest to you'," he replied, not meeting her gaze. "You would be the only one even remotely close to me since..." He didn't finish the sentence. Then he abruptly stood and stepped back into bed. He's tense demeanor made her unsure whether to approach him, but he reached out and pulled her into his arms.

He was a lot less cold than previously, only a few degrees below that of a regular human being. It didn't feel uncomfortable at all. Lying with her head against his shoulder she felt his skin beneath her cheek, his pulse beating against her brow. She still tried to process the new situation.

"Does this mean you're free?" she asked, fearing the answer, not daring to hope just yet. Not sure what to do if it was the case.  
"It should. Unless he decides to change the rules, that is."  
"Can he do that?"  
Loki shrugged.  
"He is king, he can do as he wants. It wouldn't reflect well on him though. People were already doubting his rule once it became known that I had managed to take the throne from him. He would not want to give them any more reason to believe he is less than capable."  
"And going back on his sentence would do just that," she concluded.  
"It would," he affirmed. "There are people who would rather not see me roaming free across the realms, but there is little they can do."

She closed her eyes. This meant that Loki was free to leave, and if he knew how to she could follow him. Their time in cold and darkness was over. Or would be soon enough.

They spent some more hours in bed, making love, sleeping some more and speculating about the future; their next course of action. Eventually they went downstairs to eat, and it was shortly after that they heard it, a sound she couldn't identify. It came from outside.  
"The bifrost!" Loki said grimly. "So they know."

She quickly got her coat and followed him outside. The man waiting for them, with a red cape and hammer in hand, couldn't be anyone but Thor.

"How nice of you to pay us a visit, brother," Loki stated once they were in hearing distance. His tone was mockingly cheerful. Thor seemed unfazed, remaining in place till they stopped in front of him. His eyes passed briefly over her, then settled on Loki.  
"I have been told you found a way to break your bonds," he said with a deep voice, not revealing any emotion.  
"I'm sure Heimdall would also tell you that there was no foul play in doing so. It was all done in accordance with the conditions of my sentence."

The tension was palpable, but as far as she could determine there was no overhanging risk of violence.  
"And you did so with help from a mortal," Thor said, again glancing at her.

_What is he implying?_

"The 'help' you're referring to was freely given," Loki said with a small but detectable sharpness to his voice. "And you are hardly one to talk, what with your precious Jane."  
"I didn't use her to get my way," Thor said calmly, not taking his eyes of him. "I wouldn't put it past you to do such a thing, however."

Now Loki was getting worked up, she had learned to read the signs in voice and demeanor. She also realized that Thor, being from Asgard, probably was on the same level as him when it came to being physically dangerous. This didn't bode well; she certainly hoped Loki could control himself.

"You wouldn't put it past me..." he said bitterly. "Of course not. But you _would_ put it past me to feel affection for a mortal, or perhaps for anyone, considering what I am."  
"You have not taken an interest in them before," Thor said simply. "Does she know what you tried to do to her world a few years past?"  
"Actually I do!" she inserted herself into the conversation. "Is this really necessary? Aren't the conditions met? Or is the king backing down on his word?"

Thor turned to her, and this time his gaze remained on her person.  
"I have been requested to bring you back to your own world, would you so desire," he said. She heard an intake of breath behind her, but didn't really pay attention.  
"Now? Where were you a few months back when I would have needed the help? Now we're free to go, you suddenly show up and offer to take me home, when I don't even need it anymore!" She was incredulous. What was wrong with these people?

Loki laughed.  
"Oh, it's so marvellously thought out, isn't it? It's not an offer from the kindness of their hearts, darling. They simply cannot believe that my interest in you goes anywhere beyond a means to regaining my freedom." He turned to Thor:  
"And you expect me to feel relieved by your offer to take her out of my sight now she's served her purpose? That is what you're expecting to see, isn't it? Do you even know what she was willing to go through for me?"  
"I know she may well have saved your life," Thor said gravely. "And you repaid her by taking advantage of her for your own gain."

_Oh please! What is this? The Asgardian version of a soap opera?_

"Everything she did for me was of her own volition," Loki stated, anger barely contained. "I may have been hard on her when she first entered my domain, but I didn't once mislead her or tried deliberately to gain her trust. And I certainly didn't lure her into my bed."  
"Yet she is the reason your freedom is restored."  
"But there was no way we would know that!" she exclaimed, stepping in between them. "Even your Allfather didn't foresee this, or he would have phrased it differently. You can't accuse us of cheating when we couldn't possibly have known."  
"I am not accusing you. I'm merely offering you the opportunity to return home if you wish. You need not feel obligated to stay... here." She had a distinct feeling he had meant to say "with him" rather than the word he actually used.

Now she was the one starting to loose her temper. It was like being treated like a child, less knowledgable and unable to make her own decisions.  
"I have what I want," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "When I leave it's because Loki is going with me. Feel free to transport us both to E... Midgard, if you want."

Thor gave her an acknowledging nod, then turned to Loki.  
"I hope you can find it in yourself to be deserving of such trust, brother," he said, and Loki's eyes narrowed. There were a whole bunch of buttons being pushed here, and she didn't need to know the background details to see it.  
"Rest assured I will do my very best, _brother_."


	12. Leaving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A time for decisions and departure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter: short and sweet. Thank you for all the appreciation you've given through kudos and comments. I'm happy to see you're loving this story as much as I do.

After Thor left Loki remained quiet, but it was obvious a storm was brewing and he barely contained it.  
"Do you need to be alone to blow off some steam?" she asked carefully.  
"I am doing just fine," he said, tension audible in his voice.

That was obviously not the case, but she knew better than to push it.

They were sorting through things, making preparations for the departure to come. Not this day, not the next, but as soon as everything was ready they would make their way out of this frozen realm and not look back.

At one point he stopped and leaned against the wall, watching her with a hard expression.  
"If you wish to go back I will take you to Midgard, wherever there you may want to go... and I will leave and never bother you again."  
"No Loki, please..."  
He held up a hand, raising his finger and she fell silent.  
"You should know that following me is not something you do lightly. If you are going to choose I will have you do it now, and not later."

The words cut through her like a knife.

"You think I doubt you, because of what he said." It was a statement more than a question.  
"I think you have reason to."  
"What I saw yesterday was not someone who was scheming to get his way. You couldn't possibly have faked that. I may not be the best at reading people, but what I saw was _real_."  
"It does not mean that I don't take an opportunity when it present itself. The Norns know I have done so before."  
"But it doesn't negate everything else that happened." she insisted. "It doesn't mean you don't _feel_... what you do."

He avoided her gaze, looking away with a tight expression on his face. His fists clenched, then opened again, like he forced himself to relax.

"Is there any reason I should _not_ choose you?" she asked. He looked back at her, pulling the corner of his mouth into a twisted smile.  
"I believe you have seen enough of me to answer that question. There is more however... When I led the invasion into your world I wasn't alone. In a few years time, maybe sooner, there will be forces coming to unleash destruction on our worlds. And they _will_ be coming for me since I failed them. You may not want to be found near me when that happens."

His words left an eerie silence in the room where they were standing. They'd never talked about his attack on her home world, about the details or the why. She didn't know what forces he was referring to, but the very way he spoke of them left a dark fear in her mind, like a looming shadow, chilling her deeper to the bone than Jotunheim's ice.

"Maybe I _should_ be around then," she said quietly. "Are you sure you want to face that alone?"  
His gaze softened.  
"I would rather not," he admitted. "I may not be able to protect you, however."  
"I can take that risk. I really, really don't want to give you up. Can you understand that? How much you mean to me now? How much I care... How much I love you?"  
He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath before opening them again.  
"I take it you have made your choice then."

* * *

He stood looking at his hands when she came into the room, like inspecting them. She was still not used to his new look. Every time she saw him it took a second to adjust. She didn't mind, he was no less attractive this way, and he seemed a lot more comfortable in this form than in the previous one. She remembered the broken mirrors, the referral to monsters. It had not just been the exile he resented.

"So we're not actually staying in Asgard?" she asked.  
"We will get some transportation to reach a passageway to Vanaheim, that is all. I have a few items to collect, someone to see, and after... we will move on to Alfheim. I know of a dwelling there where we will stay for the time being."

Well, it sounded like she would get to see quite a few realms this way, however briefly. It was an exciting thought. The world was indeed bigger than it used to be.

They were travelling light, only carrying what was needed for survival. It would take some time to reach the passageway to Asgard, and yet more time after that until they would be able to find their transportation and no longer rely on walking. A rough trip, and potentially dangerous, but with an end in sight it didn't seem so bad. She would see sunshine again. And stars. And...

"Hold out your hand!" he said. She did as requested and he started drawing patterns on her wrist with his finger, a faint green glow emitting and proceeding to sink into her skin. "This way I will always know where you are. Were we to be separated, I will find you."  
"Always?"  
"Always, unless I choose to remove it."

The words made her unreasonably happy and she tried to hide her smile, but his perceptive eyes probably caught it anyway.  
"Thank you."

She reached up to pull his face a little closer, and kissed him. He slid his arms around her back and responded in turn, smiling a little. They stood for a while, inhaling each other's scent, foreheads touching. It was a long, cold walk ahead.  
"You must speak up when you need to rest or slow down," he said. "I need to know what pace to set, and I will not carry you because you exhaust yourself."  
"I know, don't worry about it."

She reluctantly let go and looked around.  
"I can't say I will miss this place, but I don't think I can forget it either." The life turning events that had taken place here would be forever etched into her memory and, she suspected, in his.  
"Are you ready?"

They went outside in the icy landscape and started walking, a wind dusting up fine snow around their feet. The silent cold enveloped them on all sides along with the darkness.  
But at the end, somewhere far ahead, there would finally be warmth and light. The exile was over.

  
_And I would do anything for love_  
_I'd run right into hell and back_  
_I would do anything for love_  
_I'd never lie to you and that's a fact_  
_But I'll never forget the way you feel right now,_  
_Oh no, no way_  
_And I would do anything for love, but I won't do that_  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end quote is of course from the song that inspired this story: Jim Steinman's "I'd do anything for love"


End file.
